


Tell Me What You Want

by FedMoose



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29524071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FedMoose/pseuds/FedMoose
Summary: Byleth has been caught staring by Seteth many times before. This time, he decides to stop pretending he does not notice. WARNING: Explicit Content! It's all smutty up in here!
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Seteth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Tell Me What You Want

Seteth is once again reviewing the finer points of the Leister Alliance’s political affiliations, and Byleth is once again not quite paying attention.

She is seated across from him, while he leans over his desk to point out a connection between such and such’s family tree and so and so’s trading network. All the minutia they had been setting aside during the war has finally come due now that things have settled across Fodlan.

The papers have been courteously turned so they are facing her, and Seteth is deftly guiding her through the whole mess upside-down. Byleth idly muses that he must be offering this presentation frequently, given the ease with which he gestures toward each relevant item.

His voice is low and soothing, and her mind wanders as he speaks.

Instead of dutifully memorizing the material, she finds herself focusing on how the fading sun is mingling with the warm glow of the candles Seteth has just lit, and how pleasantly it highlights his features.

It is while she is reflecting on how the shadows of the office deepen the green of his eyes that she realizes Seteth has stopped speaking.

And that she has been staring.

He is still leaning forward across the desk, but now he is holding her gaze intently. Byleth looks away, feeling her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

She expects him to continue smoothly on with his lesson, as he has done in the past whenever he has caught her eye lingering a bit too long.

The first time had been nearly three years ago for her—more for him thanks to her five year absence. It had been the night of the Millennium Festival ball. She had been captivated by his lithe movements across the dance floor, weaving in and among the revelers as he chaperoned.

She still remembers the slight quirk of his brow which had dashed all hope that he had not noticed her regard. Later that night Seteth mercifully carried on as though he hadn’t, simply directing her to patrol the Goddess Tower in case any students were up to mischief.

Since then had come many similar instances. He would catch her watching him. She would quickly avert her gaze, and he would pretend he had not noticed.

This time he seems to come to some resolution and straightens, smoothly closing the distance between them by rounding the desk. The candlelight flickers as he reaches to gently brush his fingers along Byleth’s jawline. She does not stop herself from leaning into his touch, and for a dizzy moment she thinks- hopes- that he is about to kiss her. Instead he brings himself just close enough that she can feel the warmth radiating from him.

“Byleth” he breathes, and she shivers with the rough edge his voice has taken, “Please- tell me what you want.”

Her head is spinning. Gazing into his eyes she wants so much, and has no idea how to express it. Byleth has never allowed herself to consider anything beyond the quiet longing she has carried for years. Now that the man himself is before her, asking her say aloud what she has been denying, she is at a loss.

“You,” she settles on.

Seteth does kiss her then, urgent and demanding, tangling his hand in her hair and using the other to draw her flush against him. She gasps at the sudden surge of pleasure, yielding to him readily.

He reluctantly breaks the kiss, and nods toward the office’s entrance. “Would you go lock the door?” he asks in a heady whisper.

Byleth is happy to comply, and moves across the room. Behind her she hears a rustle of cloth. Feeling playful and a bit reckless, she deliberately slows her movement, taking her time before clicking the lock leisurely into place.

Strong hands close over her wrists, drawing them above her head as Seteth uses his weight along her back to press her against the door. She notes with a thrill that he has shed his formal robes, and is down to his linen shirt and breeches. He is hard against her rear, and he grinds into her before fisting his hand in her hair and urging her head to the side, baring her neck.

She can’t help a whimper of pleasure as he plants open-mouthed kisses along her pulse point, nipping and lapping in turn.

With a burst of impatience, she wriggles out of his grasp and turns to face him, hands moving under his shirt and skating across his broad chest. Byleth grins at his sharp intake of breath, at the sudden bite of his fingers as they dig into her hip. She nips at his neck as well, eager to return the favor.

He smooths his hand down her thigh, hooking his finger at the waist of her shorts. He catches her eye and cocks his head in question. “May I?”

She nods decisively and urges him to shed his own remaining clothing while shucking off her own. Then it’s a blur of skin and lips and teeth and hot pleasure, until Byleth finds herself sat on the edge of the desk with Seteth between her thighs.

He moves his elegant fingers lazily over her, circling her clit and stroking lightly. Byleth bucks her hips and lets out a soft moan, head falling back onto the desk. Seteth follows with a broad stroke of his tongue and she sees stars as he settles into a patient rhythm, moving his tongue and lips over her until she can barely breathe.

“Seteth, _please._ ”

He abruptly stops his ministrations and pulls away, leaving her scrambling to her elbows to stare at him in desperate confusion.

“Please what?” he asks, standing up and leaning over her, planting his hands on either side of her shoulders. His eyes are dark, though his lips quirk with amusement.

“You know what,” she huffs, reaching out to draw him close.

“Yes, Byleth. I know what you want.” The tip of his erection rests flush with her entrance now, and she aches around him. She bucks again to try and urge him inside, but his grip turns to iron as he holds her hips down.

“Do you think I haven’t seen the way you look at me? Enough guesswork- I want to hear you _say_ it,” he says, voice soft and low and maddeningly composed. He punctuates this by rocking his hips minutely, just barely entering before withdrawing again.

Her composure shatters against his teasing. Her voice is barely a whisper.

“Fuck me. Please.”

He rewards her with a full thrust and she gasps, her own hips snapping forward to meet him. At her urging he settles into a feverish pace.

Byleth can think of nothing but the pleasure of him moving with her, of the way his back feels under her palms as she clings to him, of the scratch of his beard along her neck as he leaves bruising kisses at her throat.

When she comes he sinks his teeth where her neck meets her shoulder, the pain and pleasure mingling exquisitely as she rides out the aftershocks. Seteth follows behind, pulling out just before and spilling onto her chest.

After coming back to himself and recovering for a few moments, Seteth brushes a stray lock of hair out of Byleth’s face affectionately. He then rather sheepishly passes her a handkerchief pulled from a drawer at the side of the desk.

She laughs and accepts it, cleaning up before reassembling her outfit. With a twinge of amusement, she notes that Seteth’s robes have been draped carefully over the back of the desk chair so as to avoid wrinkling. Her own clothing had been rather unceremoniously discarded and scattered about the office in her haste.

Both now back to looking semi-presentable, they turn to face one another.

“Byleth, I-“

She cuts him off with a lingering kiss.

“Maybe… ah. Maybe we could arrange another lesson sometime? I am having such a time trying to remember the ins and outs of Leister territory arrangements.”

Seteth huffs a breath of laughter. “Yes. Yes I think further tutelage would be wise. I am… usually alone in my chambers after the 11th hour. Should you ever wish it.”

Byleth nods and makes her way from the office in a bit of a daze. Although it’s grown late, she’s struck by the sudden urge to fish.

In the light of the moon she casts her line over the still waters, and reflects that perhaps she should simply speak her mind more often.

**Author's Note:**

> "Please- Tell me what you want" says Seteth, before turning directly to the viewer. "This is the title of the story you are currently reading."


End file.
